Desperate Times and Dirty Measures
by Avdal
Summary: Cassian really likes to pin her down. Jyn really hates when he does that. A lot." Aka. Jyn had never been good at standing still. Or fighting fairly. So when Cassian offered to spar with her to burn off some excess energy, he should have known what he was really signing up for.


"You know what you remind me of?" Cassian asks.

They're halfway into their sparring session and Jyn shoots him an icy glare. Is he really so arrogant that he thinks he can hold a conversation right now and still win against her?

She kicks. Spins. Flips. Maybe showing off and maybe taunting him because he's still a little lame on that one side and can't move as fast as he wants to.

He huffs when a low kick snags his ankle and nearly topples him over her. Then he catches himself at the last moment and they both fall back into position.

"What? What do I remind you of?"

She scans him openly. Judging for weak spots in his defense. Well, there's the glaringly obvious one, but...

"You remind me of that special sort of young recruit who knows enough to make it look good, but really they're just flapping their arms too much and hoping for the best."

Okay, now _that_ … That was a low blow. Is that how they're going to be doing this now?

Fighting fair is overrated. Sometimes you have to improvise to get the upper hand, even if it isn't pretty.

"Kriff off," Jyn mutters, hackles rising.

She pretends to pull away like she wants to start over again. Cassian shrugs and has the audacity to fall for it.

Then she gives a quick side-kick, lightning fast and not too hard but hard enough, directly into his injured spot.

He topples with an offended yelp and glares up at her from the floor between her legs. She has to fight a random urge to do a victory dance.

"Unsanctioned move, Erso," he comments dryly, taking just a hair longer to get up than she expected.

She shrugs and offers her hand. He slaps it aside and that alone lets her know that he's both fine and thoroughly irritated at her.

"Got me a victory, didn't it?" she straightens her back, cracks her knuckles, and preens. "If this had been a real fight, that's all that would have mattered."

She moves back into opening stances. When Cassian stands up, he towers over her. It reminds her once again reminding her of their height differences and how fighting dirty will always be a viable strategy for her.

Instead of matching her posture, he huffs and turns. Grabs his jacket off the hook and Jyn quickly returns to standing like a normal person and not hunched over in a boxer's at-the-ready shuffle.

"Fine then," he tries to hide his soft limp as Jyn tries to hide her pout. "Next time: no rules. And you're going to get your ass handed to you."

Oh. Well, if he can shit talk her, he must not actually be hurt. His ego, maybe.

He slams the door shut before Jyn can tell him she can't wait for the chance to fight him dirty.

* * *

"Shit! No! That's not fair!"

Jyn hates how squeaky her voice gets, but she is technically caught in a headlock so she'll generously give herself a pass due to outside laryngeal pressure.

"I thought following the rules was no fun?" Cassian doesn't even try to hide the smug tones of his voice.

She thrashes in his arms ineffectively, too embarrassed and irate by how easily she lost to him to put up a proper rebuttal. From the mirrors she can see in the corner of her eye, her movements carry something distinctly reminiscent of a turtle on its back.

"Let me go!" she demands. He doesn't. She bites him. He laughs, baffled.

"Jyn, if this was real-"

She elbows him right between his legs. Yeah, if this had been a real scenario, life or death combat, that's exactly what she would have done, too.

Now it's his turn to squeak. The arm on her loosens and she throws her weight back, rolling along with the momentum. It leaves him flat out on his back and she crouches over him, putting a knee into the center of his chest to drive the point across.

"I'm not impressed," she taunts. "What? Taking it easy on me because I'm a girl? Don't tell me you didn't see that one coming."

He made that too easy, and that's what you get for putting me in a headlock, you cocky son of a-

"There's fighting dirty, Jyn," he grunts, turning slightly red as the weight on his chest increases. "And then there's just being a bad sport."

"Maybe you just need to try harder to catch up."

She hops off him, offering him her hand again and of course he's too pissy to take it this time either.

"Careful what you wish for, Erso."

One of them is daring the other. Jyn's not sure which one's which, but does it really matter?

No. not at all. Until next time, then.

* * *

Cassian really likes to pin her down. Jyn really hates when he does that. A lot.

She had discovered this on their third round of no-rules going at it. He was a quick learner, and very early on he figured out that using his superior size and weight to restrain her tended to really, really piss her off. Which made her sloppy. Which made her an easy target.

"Given up yet, Erso?"

Technically she's on top of him at the moment, but with the way he's wrapped around her, arms and legs over each of her own, there's only one way this can be described: yes, she did just get her ass handed to her. But there's no way she's ever going to admit that.

She wants to repeat her favorite elbow move. He must sense this because he holds onto her tighter. Squeezing her to the point that she has to grit her teeth.

"Now what was that about 'real fights'?"

He says it right into her ear, tickling her and making her even more red in the face.

"Shut up."

She tries to headbutt him. He simply cranes his jaw to the side and buries his face in the back of her head. She goes stalk still.

"Are… you sniffing my hair?"

Tsk tsk. "Distraction."

And then he flips her over, face first into the sparring mat. Presses her down with a knee between her shoulder blades exactly like she did to his chest last time.

"Say it."

"Fuck off."

He presses harder and her face gets buried in the dense foam until it's impossible to breathe.

"Jyn..." he says her voice sing-song, like a mother scolding a disobedient toddler throwing spaghetti at the wall.

Never give up. Failure is not an option.

But… neither is passing out to prove a point.

Jyn's lungs refuse to let her vocalize her tap-out. She does grow slack, though, and Cassian is too kind to drive his victory in any more.

When he lets off her, she rolls over and snarls. Bares her teeth at him at the first sign he might offer her a hand-up.

He doesn't. Good. Because she might have launched herself at him again, because being a good sport is so highly overrated and sucker-punching him has great and lasting appeal right now.

* * *

They take their sparring with them on the road. The Rebellion uses the team intermittently and never to the full extent of their potential. Most of the time, they're simply sent scouting on future prospects or training recruits.

It's a dreadful mismanagement of their abilities and it makes both of them tetchy. Which means they have no outlet for their frustrations other than each other.

Now that he's discovered an effective Jyn-containment strategy – ie. pinning her down until she exhausts herself and curses him out in way of surrender - it becomes his go-to move. Despite getting off to an early head start, the tide of their battles turns rapidly against her.

Okay okay, so she's not fighting dirty enough. Improvise adapt and overcome. Maybe she just needs to get a little more _creative_ with her approach.

Next time they fight, it's early in the morning on a remote desert planet that's being scouted as a potential for a secret base. It's a dusty, windswept, and highly scorching sort of a place with a brutal sun that gives Jyn the perfect excuse to minimize her wardrobe.

She's rarely been wrong about her instincts, and this time she's going off a theory: Cassian is a gentleman and he'll be far too proper to tackle her if she's half dressed.

It's a good theory, because as soon as she rounds the corner toward their impromptu morning date in the makeshift sparring arena, Cassian stops mid-stretch and gawks at her.

Ha, guess he didn't know she had workout clothes this skimpy, did he?

"Going for a jog later?" he finally asks. She makes a show of elongating her back with her arms over her head and she's never, ever known him to make this long of unbroken eye contact.

She shrugs and drops into a split, annoyed slightly at how the sand from the ground has spilled over the sparring mats and clings to her already sweaty skin.

It's a dirty trick in more ways than one, but it _works_. Cassian never once lets his eyes roam below her jawline. Which makes it really hard for him to dodge her moves.

She pins him in less than a minute. A record breaking finish and the most decisive victory she's ever claimed over him. He's too flustered to even try to wrestle her off him.

"If this had been a real fight..." she taunts.

He glares but doesn't have a comeback to that. If this had been a real fight, he would have lost because he got distracted by a pretty girl. She's going to tease him about that later on, but right now she simply hops off him and goes on to start the rest of her day. Leaving him with a face as brightly glowing red as the parched desert sands below him.

* * *

If it worked once… try try again. No need to change a winning strategy.

Jyn shows up next time in a sports bra and shorts so short that she winks when she walks.

She's pretty sure she scared the hell out of Bodhi on her way to the arena, but not a single member of the rest of the team dares to speak up. There were plenty of significant glances, though. That's fine. That's kind of the whole point, actually. Who says you have to be big and tall to intimidate? Maybe all you have to do is show some skin and challenge anyone to say a word about it.

She fans herself, waiting for Cassian to arrive and pretending her whole display is simply about fighting off the heat and not about winning at any cost.

Except two can play at that game, apparently. Cassian comes in with a saunter to his step and no clothes at all from the waist up.

Jyn allows herself one glance – just one glance – below the neck. Damnit… he looks really good. Bastard. But if he thinks that toned abs and loose pants clinging just above his hip bones is going to distract her-

"Heat getting to you already, Erso? Your face is looking a little flushed."

His smirk is crooked and only half-disguised. Okay, she had said just one glance, but she didn't say how long she'd hold it. Damnit.

She puffs out her chest – wishes that she had more chest to puff out – and pretends to stretch her triceps with her arms over her head. He turns away from her and stretches his calves out against a low bench. Giving her an infuriating view of the flexing muscles in his back.

Okay. Okay okay. So that's how it's going to be, is it?

Jyn stomps into the center of the arena. Maybe this will be their first truly fair fight because they're both equally at a disadvantage.

"Let's do this."

* * *

If their fight had been shy and respectful at first, that all changes the moment a hand accidentally falls where it shouldn't.

They had actually been doing proper sparring for the first time in quite a while. Long distance moves with a polite extension of limbs and minimum of skin to skin contact. Because there was just so much skin and that was a danger in and of itself.

Then Cassian had blocked her latest sweeping kick with a hand around her waist.

She had been so hyper aware of her body – maybe she wasn't quite as self-confidant as she was trying to project – that even that small and innocent amount of contact was enough to completely shatter her concentration.

She started laughing. No, not laughing, _tittering._ Snorting and giggling and oh gods-fucking-damnit how embarrassing...

"Jyn?"

The feel of his breath fanning against her shoulder made it worse. She drops her stance entirely and hunches over, squeaking and snorting and ineffectively trying to stomp on his toes.

"Jyn… are you _ticklish_?"

The hand on her doesn't move. But it also doesn't not move.

"I hate you!" she wheezes out, lungs compressed by her inner battle and struggles to break out of the hold. It gives him the widest opening and he wraps both of his arms around her this time, seizing her into a reverse bear-hug.

"Does this mean I win?"

He wants her to admit defeat. She can't even breathe, her heart lurching and her chest seizing up in her efforts to stop giggling and gain control back.

She shakes her head. Tries to force out the word 'never' but then his fingers on one hand wriggle. They feel like volatile. Too much skin to skin contact. Way, way too much.

It sets off another fit and he has the audacity, the sheer _nerve_ , to rest his chin on her shoulder and watch her. He looks so pleased with himself. The fingers flutter like he's testing his limits.

"You started this, Erso. Just so you know. This is entirely your fault from start to finish."

Jyn tries to calm herself. Close her eyes and take deep breaths. The hand trails up to her upper abdomen. The extra-sensitive, quivering expanse of skin over her diaphragm.

She tries to give no reaction, but then he lightly draws circles there.

No.

No. he will not win this fight. Failure is not an option.

Torn somewhere between righteous fury, attraction, and the sheer indignity of being held in place and _tickled_ , Jyn has only one option. Just like she did before, she drops her weight straight down. Tries to break his hold and then _oh yes_ she will be releasing a storm of dirty kicks and insults. No one, _no one_ , tickles her and gets away with it.

Except Cassian was a quick learner, so naturally he had expected that she'd try exactly that.

He follows her, dropping with her and she's far too concerned about the fleshiness of what their their final position might end up as to realize just how much of the upper hand she'd given him. He flips her onto her back, causing a cloud of dust from the mat to fly up and sting in her throat.

"You straddle me and I'm going to claw your eyes out."

She's still forcibly giggling, sort of, but has found her voice again. Nevermind that it came out in a high, squeaky panic. And it's an empty threat because her eye-clawing hands are pinned up above her head by her wrists.

She has already established that Cassian is a gentleman, at least in a manner of speaking, but she's still intensely relieved when he crouches over her but not on top of her.

"Ready to give up?"

Never. Nope.

She looks down, which proves to be another error of judgment. Because all she sees is a naked torso. Low pants. Naked skin naked skin naked skin.

This really was a mistake, wasn't it?

Cassian promptly sits on her legs before she can bring a knee up between his own.

"Still trying to fight dirty, Erso? I can stay here all day if I have to."

He probably had meant it to sound cocky, but when he says it he addresses her lips. Her _lips_. He stares at them and the curl-up of irritation falls off her face. It makes her stare at his own mouth.

If they were red-faced and breathless, that was because they'd just been fighting. Nothing more.

Without realizing it, Jyn licks her bottom lip, wetting it with her tongue. Cassian clears his throat.

They both look into each other's eyes at the same moment.

Then Cassian lets her go so abruptly Jyn is left blinking into empty space. He rolls off her and hops back up to his feet before she realizes that she totally could have taken advantage and tripped him. Scored herself another victory for her belt.

Opportunity lost. Maybe in more ways than one, but they're both going to pretend _that_ awkward little interlude never happened.

"Cassian?" Jyn unsteadily gets back to her feet. Trying to correct her clothing before remembering that she's not wearing nearly enough to have anything to correct.

Cassian takes his time answering her. A non-committal and highly frustrated sounding grunt of inquiry is the best he offers.

"I think I've got sand in weird places," she says, trying to revert the uncomfortable mood of the moment back to where it belongs.

He snorts. Turns away when she inelegantly snaps and adjusts the bottom hem of her short-shorts.

"Well maybe next time you should wear more clothes. Nip the problem in the bud."

He's right. Of course he's right.

But, hey, _he_ was the one to back down first. That totally counts as a win, and that makes them technically even. Jyn can live with that. For now. Next time, though, she's going to have to pull out all the stops. He won't even know what hit him.

* * *

Author's Note:

Lol, this was so dumb. Though in my defense it's only meant to be a quick shortish writing challenge since I'm trying to break my bad habit of writing pieces that are too damn long. And yeah, it's not a very original concept, but I think it turned out cute enough to post. And never let a lack of originality stop you when there's fun (and semi-clothed frolicking) to be ha


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